


Not Silver or Gold

by tiggeryumyum



Series: Age Swap AUs [3]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Age Swap, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 01:52:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,551
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19367758
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiggeryumyum/pseuds/tiggeryumyum
Summary: It's just one year, but it's an important year.(AU where Bokuto and Akaashi's ages are swapped)





	Not Silver or Gold

No one else at Mori Junior High cares about winning, particularly. 

They want to win, at times. Usually when a tournament is drawing near, but they talk about it the same abstract way they talk about dating a their favorite idol, or the well paying job they'd certainly have as adults, one day. Distant. Unfocused.

When Akaashi looks at the tournament date on his calendar months in advance, the square outlined in black, he feels prickling impatience. He can picture, clearly, how much effort he needs to put into practice, how long he needs to spend in the gym, the weaknesses in his posture and his aim and his endurance, and every other note from his coaches and teammates, and is determined to improve each one. 

Akaashi wants to win, and more than that, he is making plans to become the type of setter who can. 

But there are so many elements out of his control. He knows the weaknesses in his teammates – Iori's blocks are too slow, Sato is afraid to really dive into receives, and how easily Tanji is baited by other teams – but he can't make them faster, or braver, or calmer, and he can't force them to work hard enough to fix it themselves. 

They don't advance very far in the game the entire three years Akaashi plays as setter, but this don't surprise or dishearten anyone on the team. Even Akaashi is calm about their failures. It only makes sense. This is not a team that earned victory. 

He does hope, though, he will be able to play with a team that will accomplish more. 

Akaashi goes to Fukurodani. 

The teams colors are black, and dark gray, lined in gold. Heavy colors, and Fukurodani is a heavy team. They have banners on the wall of the gym, and placards of previous visits to nationals: third place, third place, fourth place, second place, first place. Akaashi walks along the wall of the gym and sees seven consecutive visits. 

This is also heavy.

Konoha is a first year like Akaashi, and he's more talented than he would like, sent to the backrow because his receives are so reliable, and asked to set because he has such precise aim – many would be happy about this, but all Konoha wants to do is spike. 

This is just one example of how Akaashi must polish his setting for his teammates, for Konoha who does not want to be considered for the setter position, and for the wing spikers who want to hit clean, sure sets, who want to worry only about the power they put into it, and not having to correct for Akaashi's bad aim. For Fukurodani itself, whose expectation to win is the heaviest thing to settle on Akaashi's shoulders. 

It was his own ambition alone that drove him through junior high, but he feels urgency, now, born from outside pressure.

He's a first year when the coach selects him to be the team's setter, and Akaashi's muscles strengthen under this heavy weight, and he learns how to hold it all, steady, above his head. 

As the official setter for a powerhouse team, Akaashi has more control than he ever did in junior high, and when he asks for corrections in his wing spikers, they try to fix it.

Akaashi starts to make charts. In the club room, before going home each day, he carefully charts down the progress of his teammates, and how far the distance is between the players they are today, and the players they will need to be to win. 

~

"Watch out, I heard Akaashi-san's _strict_ ," he hears a whisper from the first years as he passes by. 

Akaashi is strict. 

Akaashi is going to be even moreso this year. The newest placard on the wall says Fukurodani ranked fifth in their last visit to nationals. To Akaashi, this is a failure. Fifth place does not reflect the team they had. 

He knows some of the mistakes were the results of jitters and nerves, nothing Akaashi could've corrected. But he knows most of them were weaknesses he let slide, that he didn't feel comfortable voicing, as a first year. Because of that, Fukurodani lost earlier than they should've, and Akaashi is not going to make that mistake again. 

"Introduce yourselves," says their captain.

The first years begin – and Akaashi knows most of them, having visited the junior high sports meet alongside his coach and captain. Many of first years were invited to attend Fukurodani because of their performances in that very meet. A stocky middle blocker has said his introduction and is about to finish with a bow, when he's interrupted by an impatient, loud shout – 

" _Bokuto Koutarou!!_ " 

Bokuto has his hands in fists, and throws himself into a deep bow at the waist. 

The gymnasium is stunned silent. 

"Wing spiker!!" Bokuto shouts, toward his feet. "Future ace!!! I'm happy to play for Fukurodani!" 

Another beat of silence, and the captain clears his throat to cover a laugh. "Nice. Nice energy, Bokuto-kun," he says. 

Bokuto Koutarou is one of the players Akaashi saw last year, and of course one he has not forgotten. Much like today, he held the attention of the entire gym, in part because of the impressive strength in his spikes, but mostly because of this. This loudness. Showboating. Emotional instability. He was substituted out of his game midway through the first set after hitting into the block multiple times in a row, unable to calm himself down from his tantrum. He was brought back in during the second set, though, and did so well that Akaashi could not argue against inviting him onto the team.

Akaashi had hoped that it was, perhaps, a bad day. 

Obviously this hope was misplaced.

"Man," Komi says, one day when Bokuto shouts loud from the sidelines during a scrimmage. "Practices are a lot louder this year."

They are louder. The energy level is higher, as well. This comes with positives and negatives, at times the rest of the team finding Bokuto inspiring, and at others finding him intimidating and exhausting to keep up with. There's no one they can send Bokuto with to jog in pairs, only assistant coach Wakamoto can keep pace with him. He's both strong willed, but equally eager to please, which makes for ridiculous situations where he searches for praise after directly disobeying Akaashi's instructions. 

"Did you see that, Akaashi-san?!"

"I saw it was a cross, Bokuto."

"Yeah! My crosses are great, Akaashi-san! The best!" 

"We're working on your straight today, Bokuto. If you want me to continue sending you tosses, please focus."

"Akaashi-san," Bokuto whines.

"And get up off the floor," Akaashi says. 

Akaashi learns quickly that there's almost nothing Bokuto likes more than spiking practice, even more than ice cream after practice or trips to the arcade. None of these rewards is as good as extra time spent with a setter, though he's also prone to whining if they spend too long without it. 

As tournament season grows closer, Akaashi starts growing more and more strict about his time, using it as a reward in order to get Bokuto to focus on his fundamentals. 

"When can we move on to spiking?!"

"Once you get five serves, Bokuto-kun," Akaashi repeats, yet again, arms crossed. 

"Hey, just two left!!" Konoha shouts from the sidelines. 

"You got this, Bo-kun!" Komi says, giving two thumbs up.

Emboldened by this praise, Bokuto straightens his shoulders – and he doesn't have to try for a jump serve, but for some reason he does, and he hits out of bounds, and he ends up on his knees, tugging at his hair in frustration and howling.

Akaashi watches the first year placidly, though he feels a similar frustration rising up inside himself, as well. 

If Bokuto wasn't talented, that would be one thing. If Bokuto was lazy, that would be one thing. 

If Bokuto wasn't an irreplaceable tool in their arsenal, Akaashi might just have mercy on him. He's the last first year left, all the others have made their five serves and are waiting, leaning against the wall, picking at their kneepads. 

_"He's gonna be a tricky one,"_ coach had said, but nodded toward Akaashi. "But I trust you'll figure out how to use him."

At the time, Akaashi had been proud, relieved that the coach would trust him with such responsibility, especially after their loss at nationals. 

Now, Akaashi looks at his kohai, who has shoved his face into the floor of the gym as he moans. 

They're too close to nationals for Akaashi to start showing mercy.

"We're moving on to spikes," Akaashi says, and Bokuto jumps to his feet with cat-like agility. "Except for Bokuto-kun."

"What?!" Bokuto gasps.

"The rest of you get started," Akaashi says. "Follow me, Bokuto-kun."

Bokuto makes a loud, childlike groan, rolling his neck dramatically, then following Akaashi to the second gym. Akaashi is not the captain, not even the vice captain, but his responsibility has earned him a spare set of keys. He unlocks the doors, and turns on the lights. Bokuto is so slow to follow that Akaashi almost has the net up by the time he slouches through the door. 

"To justify using this gym," Akaashi says, looping the net into place. "I expect you to complete five more serves – "

"Akaashi-san!!!" 

"And because you seem so fixated on jump serves, you can continue with them," Akaashi says. 

Bokuto stares at him, mouth open in frozen protest, holding the ball in both hands. For a second, Akaashi thinks he might throw it to the ground and storm out of the gym.

He doesn't. And Akaashi should've trusted that. They've only been practicing together a month, but it is already apparent that the first year takes this club seriously. Volleyball is important to Bokuto, like it's important to Akaashi – perhaps even more – which is another reason why he's such a pain, and why the weight of him bears down on Akaashi so very, very heavily. Bokuto declared himself future ace during his introduction. There is no reason why that shouldn't come true – unless Akaashi mishandles him. 

"I'll do ten!" Bokuto suddenly boasts, and throws the ball up into the air without even getting into position. He hits it hard, and the ball slams into the wall on the other side. 

"Take your time," Akaashi says. 

Bokuto frowns at him deeply. Then he looks forward, and barely has time to take a breath before throwing the next ball high into the air. He slams his frustrations into this one, too. It sails hopelessly out of bounds.

"Bokuto," Akaashi says, and waits until Bokuto looks his way, hands still in the ball cart. "Count to three. Out loud. Then try." 

Oh, Bokuto does not like that. He turns away, hiding what is probably a furious expression, then grabs a ball and matches into position. 

"One. Two. Three," he says, voice thick with frustration. His form is good for a normal serve. For a second Akaashi thinks he's going to go for that, and would compliment him on his judgment, even if it was ignoring Akaashi's instruction. But he throws the ball up again, and this time the timing is off. The ball slams into the net, then down on their side. 

Silence. Bokuto's shoulders hitch up. He looks away quickly, and Akaashi braces for his outrage, but it doesn't come. There's a sudden, tight quiver in Bokuto's back and he realizes Bokuto – might be – tearing up. 

Akaashi feels stricken, like he just woke up from a daze. Bokuto is a first year. He’s trying his best. He always tries his best, really, and Akaashi looks around himself uselessly for something to offer, to fix this. 

"… I appreciate your hard work today, Bokuto-kun," Akaashi finally says, uncertain. "If you want to rejoin spike practice – "

"No! Don't go easy on me, Akaashi-san!" Bokuto snarls. It's hard to tell if Akaashi was right, his face is so scrunched in a scowl. He squeezes the ball between his hands. "I'll get ten! I said ten! I'll do _twenty!!!_ " 

Akaashi stares in horror. The next three serves, Bokuto sends directly into the net. He gets angrier, and quieter, and faster, and Akaashi feels a pressure digging into his back, in-between his shoulders. _You're ruining him,_ he thinks, horrified, but unable to figure out how to stop it. 

The next one lands in bounds. It's a strong serve, too, one that would certainly blast through any blockers. 

" _Nice,_ " Akaashi breathes out, sharp and fast with his relief. 

"Ha!!!" Bokuto shouts, fist in the air, running to the cart. He gets the next one in, then misses two in a row. 

Bokuto gets twenty serves, but the sky is dark by the time he manages, and they're the last ones in the clubroom. 

Bokuto is exhausted, and manic, babbling nonstop about practice, and the homework he's put off that's due tomorrow, the upcoming tournament, and so on. It's hard for Akaashi to read him, if he's upbeat because he's proud of himself for accomplishing the ridiculous task both Akaashi and his ridiculous self set, or putting on a brave face and just afraid to slow down.

"You did well today," Akaashi says, after saying good night at the clubroom doors.

"Yeah! Of course I did, Kaashi-san!!" Bokuto laughs, hands on his hips. "I'm the future ace, right?!"

"Mm," Akaashi says, not quite agreement, but Bokuto takes it as such, turning around with a laugh and walking off into the night.

~

Like every night, as far back as Akaashi can remember, he replays the events of the day, looking over any mistakes he might have made. Areas for improvement. Some days there aren't many. Some days there aren't any at all that he can honestly fret over. Tonight is mind is buzzing with it, loud, from all angles. He lays still in bed, in the most comfortable position he can find, eyes closed, and goes over each moment of his time with Bokuto, furious with how he handled him, and feeling the weeks before interhigh getting closer.

When he finally falls asleep, he dreams of slipping beneath the waves of the ocean, and sinking deep until the pressure surrounds him from all sides, and it takes waking up to remember he can breathe.

~

"You made him do serves until _eight-thirty??_ " 

Komi and Saru stare in disbelief. 

"I offered to let him rejoin the rest of practice," Akaashi says.

"Offered! You're the senpai here!" Komi says. "You tell him to go back to practice! How many hours of serving was that? Four??"

"Three," Akaashi says, though it's a fairly weak defense. 

Lunch ends shortly after, so Komi and Saru can't say much else, though their expressions were enough. Akaashi had been certain that Bokuto was not someone who benefit from gentle handling, but maybe that's just what he wanted to believe, because it made make it easier to push Bokuto without mercy. 

"We're finalizing the line up," coach tells him, when he reaches the gym after class. "So what's your opinion? Bokuto ready, or does he need more time?"

Akaashi would normally be able to answer this without bias. He'd be able to bring up his mental checklist, the things Bokuto has accomplished and the things he is struggling with. After the talk with Komi and Saru, though, all he can think about is which would have a worse impact Bokuto's morale, which is obvious.

"He's ready," Akaashi says. 

He's unable to focus the rest of the day, until it's time to sleep, when his mind is suddenly hyper focused, running through every play he's ever seen Bokuto make, and every possible result from Bokuto playing in a tournament as a regular. 

It's not as though he's never played in a tournament before, but nationals are a different beast. Akaashi had been overwhelmed by them his first year, and could see it getting to his senapi, who had made multiple visits before. What if Bokuto chokes on that stage? What if it impacts his ability to play from now on? His mind spins into unrealistic possibilities that do not suit Akaashi's usual, unshakable rationale. Bokuto quitting the team and never playing again is the worst thing he can possibly come up with, and is so ridiculous enough it finally brings himself back to reality. 

~

Bokuto chokes. Miserably. He's subbed out in the second game, first set. When he comes back in his worse than before, and the pressure starts messing with Akaashi, as well. 

Really, Konoha carries them through the game, and by the time they make it to nationals, their coach makes the decision to keep Bokuto on the bench, except as a pitch server. 

Every time Akaashi checks on him, standing on the sidelines, he looks frustrated. His strength as he stands there is obvious. His passion, as well, and his drive. How Akaashi failed to utilize it?

The loss is one of the hardest Akaashi's endured, the bus ride back to the school silent and contemplative. Bokuto sits with the rest of the first years, who make occasionally attempts to cheer one another up. Bokuto refuses to join in. 

"It'll be fine once he gets back in the gym," Konoha says, catching Akaashi's expression. "Once you start sending him some tosses."

Yes. Tossing practice only, Akaashi decides, feeling like he's going to be crushed under the weight of every broken hope of every teammate he's stacked on top of himself. 

He was too strict, is the only conclusion he can draw. He'll spoil Bokuto with tosses. Crosses, straights, feints, whatever Bokuto asks for. And honestly, Bokuto is amazing, there's a reason why they were trying to groom him for a regular position, even as a first year. He's good, and Akaashi thinks, just a chance to watch him, without trying to improve it, to scrutinize it for errors, would be enjoyable. 

But thirty minutes into their first practice, they’re still waiting around the club room, and Bokuto has not shown up.

"… You don't think he's skipping?" he hears Saru ask, voice soft.

"What if he quit for good?" a first year asks, sounding scandalized at the idea.

What if he quit? Akaashi thinks. If he quit, Akaashi would find him in the halls of the school, or on the train ride home, and - and, what? Offer tosses? Apologize for letting his greed and poor judgment scare off the only other player who cares as intensely about the game as himself?

"… Is Akaashi-san okay?"

"Uh – yeah," Komi says, though he sounds weirded out, from where Akaashi has decided to hide, under a desk. "Sometimes... you just want to hang out under a desk.”

“You'll get it when you're older,” Komi adds.

The team has apparently given up on waiting for Bokuto. Leaving Akaashi to decompress alone, they filter out quietly.

Akaashi presses his face into his knees. What a fool. He's been waiting for the chance to experiment with the game since junior high. He had it, with Bokuto. The entire time Bokuto was here, why didn't he take advantage of that? Why did he force Bokuto to practice his straights, and his serves, and his receives?

"Hey, I'm here! I'm late, but I got here – Akaashi-san??"

Akaashi looks over, sharply. Bokuto's there in the doorway with this book bag, tie already unknotted, shirt unbuttoned. 

"Are you hurt??" Bokuto asks, dropping his bag to the floor. 

"No," Akaashi says.

"Are you scared - or something?" Bokuto asks, then looks around, like he might have missed a threat. He hurries over to Akaashi's side, just in case. "What are you hiding from?"

"I .. was afraid you might have quit."

"Why?" Bokuto asks, nose wrinkling like the idea itself has a bad smell. 

"I thought you might be disheartened because of the tournament," Akaashi says. He knows it's fairly ridiculous to have this conversation in this way, but can't really stop himself from wrapping his arms tighter around his knees.

"Well," Bokuto says, frowning. "Yeah, I didn't like that!"

"I could tell."

"But I'm tough," Bokuto says. "I'm not gonna fall apart cause I got subbed out! You don't have to be scared of that, Akaashi-san."

"I'm not – " Akaashi stops himself from the protest. It's childish, and well. Scared is close enough to how he feels about the idea. 

"Right, but I'm always gonna want your tosses," Bokuto says, and smiles. It is an intimidating smile, to have aimed directly at a single person like this. Bokuto really ought to be more careful about it, Akaashi thinks, stricken. "If you want to send me some. Do you want to? I was hoping we could today, even though I'm late... It wasn't my fault, though!!"

"I can send you some," Akaashi says.

Bokuto smiles again, and holds out his hand. 

Bokuto is just a bit shorter than Akaashi, but he's still big, and there's strength in his hand as he helps Akaashi to his feet. Bokuto is durable, Akaashi realizes, as Bokuto goes on, excited. Manic. Energetic. He’s talking about becoming the ace. Their next tournament. He's strong. Strong in a way Akaashi had not seen. Strong enough to carry himself.

Akaashi takes a deep breath of relief, feeling the weight Bokuto's lifted off his shoulders, and follows Bokuto to the gym.

**Author's Note:**

> [pressure makes diamonds (not silver or gold)](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=N8qlkY-CDJU)


End file.
